


Left it's Seeds While I was Sleeping

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flower Language, M/M, Pining, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Pre-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Relationship, Sheith Flower Exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Shiro's senior year is coming to a close, and graduation is looming.  Keith worries, and Shiro muses on his own feelings.For Abyssiniana





	Left it's Seeds While I was Sleeping

Shiro stepped into his dorm room and stopped when something crunched underfoot.

He looked down and frowned at the scrap of paper below his boots. It curled at the edges, forced up by the weight of him. There was some sort of curling drawing on it, though the wrinkles obscured Shiro’s view.

A quick glance around showed that half the room was in a similar state of disarray. From the look of it, a stack of papers on his roommate’s desk had fallen over. An effort must have been made to shove them over, since they were built up in a line over the left side of the room, but no further steps had been taken. Matt himself sat on his bed, his feet covered by yet more paper, and his head bent feverishly over a notepad.

This was not the first time Shiro had found his room in his state. It probably wouldn’t be the last. Matt got this way every time some new interest took over. He was an otherwise agreeable roommate - conversational but not nosy, respected quiet time, an amazing source of gossip.

Still, he would have liked it if the walkway was kept clean.

“Is this important?” Shiro asked, as he bent down to pick up the picture. Once he had it smoothed out, he could tell it was some kind of vine, with small flowers shaped like bells.

Huh.

Matt looked up, brow furrowed. “Um. Not sure. What is it?”

“Flowers.” 

Sighing, Matt rolled his hand. “Be more specific than that. They’re all flowers. What kind?”

Shiro looked over the drawing for a label and found nothing. “It’s a flower, Matt. I don’t know what kind it is.”

Holding out a hand, Matt made a ‘gimme’ motion. “Here, let me see.” 

Shiro stepped carefully around the fallen papers, careful not to crush anymore. Then he handed over the paper and crossed his arms, waiting for the verdict. He’d only come to drop off his books and get the ones for his after lunch classes, but now he was invested in whatever Matt was up to.

“Oh. Belladonna. Nah, this isn’t important. Didn’t end up going with it.” Matt put it aside and picked his pen back up. “Thanks, though. I’ll clean up before I head out for the afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Shiro looked around again, then waited, brows up. But Matt was bent over the sketchbook again and didn’t seem to notice, so he cleared his throat. “Why do you have pictures of flowers all over our room?”

Matt shrugged one shoulder. “There’s a group that’s thinking about all going and getting tattoos after graduation. So I’m thinking about what I want. At first I was going to do a phrase, but if you do something in another Latin or anything cool you’ll get ‘oh what does it mean’ all day. With a flower I can have meaning and less people will ask.”

Picking the picture of the belladonna back up, Shiro eyed him. “Did you look up the policy for tattoos before you got into this?”

“Yeah, obviously.” Matt finally glanced up, though only from the corner of his eyes. His lips pressed together in minor irritation. “I’m not an idiot. So long as it’s not anything offensive and it doesn’t show in uniform.”

Shiro held up his hands. “Alright, sorry. Well, good luck.” He stepped away and put his bag down on the bed. His shoulders throbbed with relief as the weight was suddenly taken off. Training had done nothing to relieve that particular discomfort. As he reached inside, he realized he’d still been absently holding the picture. Whoops. He put it down on his desk as he went back to his work. “You know the meanings of all these yet?”

“Some. Why, you want suggestions? Crepe Myrtle might be good. They stand for eloquence, and you like to give your little speeches.”

Ripping out a blank page from his notebook, Shiro causally crinkled it up and tossed it at Matt’s head. It bounced off his curls and landed on his notepad. “No, I don’t want a flower tattoo. If I get anything, I want it to mean something, not whatever I picked out in a couple of hours because some others were doing it.”

Matt stuck out his tongue as his measured and mature response. “It’s cool is why, and I want to celebrate finally graduating. Sue me. Not all of us get our kicks by sneaking into town to get powdered hot cocoa. And yeah, I know the meanings of most of ‘em. Go ahead, quiz me.”

Brows up, Shiro held up the picture of belladonna. “What’s this one?”

“Well, poison, for one. Nightshade. Maybe don’t go picking it for funzies if you run across it one day.” Matt leaned back against the headboard, tapping his pencil thoughtfully on his pad. “Uh. Silence? Yeah, silence.” He pulled out his phone and checked, then beamed. “Damn, I’m good.”

Poison and silence. Huh. Shiro crinkled his nose as he looked at it. “I was thinking they’d mean nicer things. It’s flowers.”

“I don’t want a nice tattoo. I want a badass one. Do you even know me?”

Shiro rolled his eyes but inclined his head. “Fair enough.” He finally dragged out the right books from his desk and started to pack them back up. “Fine, what are you thinking about, then?”

Even without looking, Shiro knew Matt was beaming. He loved his latest projects being indulged. “Well, walnut means intellect, so I basically have to use that one. Sycamores are curiosity, and primroses can mean confidence. That’s pretty cool, I think.”

“It suits you.” Shiro wasn’t sure how badass that was, but it definitely matched the man himself.

There was a pause, slightly bashful. “And, uh, there’s these angelica flowers. These.” Matt rummaged through his piles and pulled out another picture. This one had lots of little flowers clumped in a ball shape. “Ingenuity. It kind of reminded me of my sister? And, you know, applications for missions have started. So it might be cool to have something that reminds me of my family out in space.”

Immediately, Shiro softened. The whole idea had seemed pretty silly, but that he could understand. He’d heard so much about Matt’s little sister over the past couple of years, so he knew how much he adored her. “That sounds like a great idea.”

Matt gave a flash of a smile back, though it was distant and subdued. “I dunno. I might chicken out at the last minute. These things are expensive, for one. I don’t mind having tattoos that don’t mean something huge and important, but it seems nice, is all.”

“It’s very nice.” Shiro looked around at the pictures still on the floor, his heart clenching. Maybe Matt was onto something. Rubbing over one shoulder, Shiro pictured his grandfather, the memory faded and warm at the edges with age. The funeral had long since passed, but as the last remaining relative, he’d been struggling with logistics he didn’t fully understand, not getting closure.

It would be nice to celebrate him.

“When I get back later, do you have a list I can look at?”

Matt’s head snapped up,and a smile broke across his face. “I convinced you? Nice. All it took was one little mention of my sister, you total bleeding heart. Yeah, I can print one out later.”

“Thanks.” Shiro said. He pulled his backpack on, gaze still distantly locked on the floor. If he could find something that meant ‘noble’ or ‘esteemed’, that would be nice. Or he’d just look through and see what came to mind.

Shooting him a thumbs up, Matt grinned. “No problem. Good luck with physics.”

“I don’t need luck for physics.” But Shiro gave a smile and a wave as he ducked out.

He wasn’t totally sold on the idea, mostly because he was hearing it just a few weeks before graduation. He doubted most of the people who had talked about it would go through with the idea.

But it was a nice concept.

Shiro headed to class with the image of those bell-shaped buds in his mind’s eye.

***

“Nice try,” Shiro said, between deep gulps of air. He grinned, a vicious expression with too many teeth. “But not quite.”

Despite his strong words, Shiro’s entire body ached. His shoulders throbbed, and there were several points of dull pain that would be colorful bruises tomorrow. Sweat dripped down Shiro’s back and sides, no doubt leaving dark spots in the tank top.

Under him, Keith bared his teeth back and tried to squirm free. Once in a while that worked, but Shiro was too prepared for him today. He’d leveraged one of his legs between both of Keith’s, effectively locking him in place, and he had all of his superior weight bearing down to keep Keith pinned onto the mat.

The squirming did press Keith against Shiro’s chest in interesting ways, but he ignored that with practiced ease. They’d been doing this for nearly the entire school year, so Shiro was used to the hot press of Keith against him.

“Agh!” Keith tried to wrench an arm free, nearly straining his shoulder with the force of it. Shiro squeezed his wrist warningly before he could hurt himself. One of the things that made Keith an interesting opponent was that he was never daunted by odds. He looked at a problem and figured out how to beat it, simple as that. There was no room for failure, only the best possible trajectory toward his goal.

It made him devilishly difficult to actually keep down, and it had earned him the top spot in his class without even noticing.

But it also made Keith keep fighting even when it would hurt him, when there was nothing to be gained. He just wanted to do better.

“Do you yield?” Shiro asked, brows up. He shifted his weight to keep up with Keith’s bucking, when he tried to shove Shiro cleanly off of him. “Keith.”

There was a groan, and then Keith went slack. “Fine. I yield.”

Shiro immediately pulled off of him and sat up. The air between them was heated, both from exertion and the electricity Shiro swore he could taste. It made the deep breaths he took now feel blessedly cool in comparison. “You did well.”

Grunting again, Keith rubbed his wrists. “I didn’t win, though.” For a moment, his eyes flashed, but then he shot Shiro a grin. “Next time. When you’re too distracted by your finals.”

“Hah. Good luck. I can study and kick your ass to the mat.” At least, Shiro hoped so. He’d been knocked down by Keith on more than one occasion, especially when his mind was somewhere else. Even on a good day, Shiro was taxed to the edges of his fighting abilities to keep Keith at bay. By the end of the summer, Keith would probably be able to win about half the time, if not more.

Part of Shiro was proud. Most of him, even. But the part of him that liked winning wasn’t willing to give up without a good fight.

Keith snorted, but didn’t argue. Instead he flopped back down and stretched his shoulders, groaning when they popped. “What time next week? You’re busier than I am.”

“I’m not sure yet. I can tell you at lunch tomorrow, but I got roped into an extra tutoring session.” Shiro’s brows rose as he looked Keith over. The pose drew Keith’s shirt up, revealing a flash of skin, but for once that wasn’t what drew Shiro’s attention. “You won’t be busy?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t sound like that. I’ll be busy enough. But most of these classes are easy. It’s all basic stuff. Besides, with my scores I don’t need to ace every exam.”

“With your disciplinary record? Yes, you do.” Shiro pushed himself up to his feet and retrieved his bag. He pulled out one water bottle for himself, and whistled before throwing the other. Keith caught it casually, even as he scowled. “It’s true. Unless you plan on staying out of trouble next year, you need the grades to back you up. Not just your sim records.”

“Those should be enough.” Keith took a long sip, shoulders set defensively. “I’m not planning on bombing it. I’ll do fine. All I meant was that first year exams aren’t as bad as fourth year. Calm down.”

Shiro didn’t stop frowning, though he came back over and sat down. “If you want someone to help you look everything over, I can find a few hours with you. Is there anything you’re not sure you-”

“Shiro!” This time, Keith kicked him in the thigh, though much more gently than he had tried to just twenty minutes ago. “Seriously. I’m fine. Stop fussing over me.”

Swallowing hard, Shiro bit back more words. This wasn’t Shiro’s business, technically. He tried to help Keith where he could, but there was a line of what he would accept, and Shiro was clearly crossing it. But he just wanted to help. He wanted Keith to know he could rely on Shiro if he needed a hand. He wanted Keith to look to him when times were hard.

Those weren’t concepts Shiro was willing to put into words, though. So he choked himself back, smothering everything he wanted to say back down into his throat. It felt like something wrapped around his neck, physically holding back the words.

Unbidden, the image of the belladonna flowers flashed behind Shiro’s eyes. 

“Alright,” Shiro finally said, shaking his head. “I’m done. You have this. I just want you to do well, that’s all. You have a lot going for you, and I know you can ace all those classes.”

Keith’s expression finally softened, though not all the way. He shrugged one shoulder and sipped at his water. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just not really used to people getting up into my business like that. It should be enough that I do alright.”

Shiro paused mid-sip, the water pooling on his tongue. He so rarely heard tidbits about Keith’s life, even as vague as that had been. It was part of why they got along, really. Shiro didn’t push about Keith’s past, and Keith didn’t bring up Shiro’s either. He suspected Keith had figured out there weren’t many people to talk about left, but he never offered anything, and that was how Shiro preferred it.

Still, a traitorous part of his heart couldn’t help hoarding all the little facts about Keith he’d been allowed. Each one felt like a tiny, shining gem, even though he could tell whatever had happened in Keith’s past weighed on him. He didn’t take pleasure in that pain, but he couldn’t help being breathless when he was allowed to see past Keith’s fifty foot walls. It wasn’t the hurt Shiro wanted - it was the trust.

“Sorry,” Shiro offered as he flashed a smile. “But this is a military school. Most places, yes, all you’d need to do is be fine and that’s enough. But here, your ranking in the classes matters. It’s the difference between getting the assignment you want and being stuck with something you hate.”

The softness in Keith’s eyes hardened and vanished. “Yeah. I got it.”

Silence.

No wonder the plant that stood for silence was poison. If he’d been asked an hour ago, Shiro would have guessed it was because poison killed, and made people go quiet. But no, it was because silence felt like poison. It dripped through Shiro’s veins and burned him from the inside out, a hot coal in the pit of his stomach that leaked acid until his hands wanted to shake.

“Is there something else wrong?” Shiro asked slowly, when Keith didn’t speak again. He took a large gulp of his water to try and soothe the burning ache inside. “Did I say something that upset you?”

“No.” Keith stood up again, his bare feet smacking softly against the mat. “Ready to go again?”

“Keith-”

“I said no.” Keith set his jaw and slipped into a defensive position.

Shiro climbed to his feet and tossed both their closed water bottles bag over to his bag. “You don’t have to tell me why. I just want to know what I said wrong so I don’t do it again.”

Eyes flashing, Keith just shrugged. “It’s not worth talking about. It’s not your problem.”

It was, because it was Keith’s problem, and Shiro wanted to fix everything that hurt him.

The feeling around his throat tightened, like vines squeezing down to choke him.

“Fine. How about if you win, I leave you be for the next two weeks. No bugging you about studying, no offering advice on classes, no questioning when you go mysteriously silent. And if I win, you tell me what you were just thinking.” Shiro settled into his own fighting stance, brows up. “You don’t have to agree if you think you’ll just end up on the map again.”

Keith’s eyes flashed. “If you want to manipulate me, you’ll have to be less obvious.”

Shiro only smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “Did it work?”

“Oh, fuck you.” But there was a flash of a smile back. “Fine. Only because I know I can kick your ass this time.”

Rather than reply, Shiro just gestured for Keith to come at him.

Keith shot forward and startling speed, immediately throwing a punch to Shiro’s stomach. He blocked it. When he tried to strike back, Keith ducked. He kicked at Shiro’s knee, eyes bright behind sweat-slicked bangs. Shiro twisted out of the way, so it hit the meat of his thigh instead.

Okay, Keith was being serious about this. More so than usual, even.

But Shiro had stamina on his side. Keith was always fast on the mark, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. 

If Shiro could just stall this out, he had the match in the bag.

With that in mind, he took hold of Keith by the back of his shirt and pulled with all his might. He was able to lift Keith off his feet and throw him down onto the mat several feet away. Keith rolled with the landing. When his head popped up, his eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Shiro grinned back and waved, ignoring the way his back protested the movement. It had been kinda cool, but Shiro hadn’t been properly prepared for the split-second decision, so he’d lifted with his arms and not his back.

He was going to hurt in the morning.

The surprised melted into fury. Keith scrambled back up and ran forward again, back into close range. This time, Shiro slid into a defensive stance and focused on blocking. He dodged another punch and jumped over a kick. On landing, a jolt of pain shot through his back, and it distracted him from a punch to his shoulder. It hit, but Shiro blocked the neck one to his stomach.

They fell into a rhythm like that, Keith attacking and Shiro waiting him out. He could see Keith gritting his teeth as he wasn’t able to force his way past Shiro’s defenses. He knew just as well as Shiro that his best bet was to land as many hits as possible early to weaken Shiro quickly.

Eyes flashing, Keith started to stomp down on Shiro’s foot. He picked it up out of the way before Keith could.

But Keith smiled and shifted his weight, striking out sideways at the last moment. The feint worked perfectly, and Shiro was totally unable to react before Keith kicked him on the side of the thigh, right above his knee.

Shiro’s weight advantage suddenly became a weapon against him. He went down hard, before the pain even fully registered. He hit the mat hard, grunting as he bounced from the force.

A second later, Keith landed on top of him. His knee drove into Shiro’s diaphragm, forcing out what little air he’d maintained. Both hands took hold of Shiro’s, pinning them on either side of his head.  His eyes were bright, and his lips pulled into a vicious, victorious smile.

On anyone else Keith’s side, Shiro could have just rolled and sent them tumbling. But Keith had always been improbably dense and strong. He held Shiro in a fierce grip. On a good day, Shiro could still get away, but his leg throbbed and he struggled to take in breath.

Dammit. Dammit.

Apparently he lost hardest when it mattered.

“Yield,” Shiro croaked out, struggling for the air to speak.  “I yield.”

Immediately, Keith climbed off of him.  His smile fell away as he looked Shiro over.  “You okay? I didn’t really hurt you, did I?”

“Just wanna throw up.  I’m fine.” Shiro rolled onto his side and coughed wetly as he tried to force his lungs back into working order.  “Gunna be bruised, though.”

Keith snorted, though the worry didn’t fully leave his eyes.  “You’ll live. You like purple anyway.”

It was true, though Shiro wouldn’t have picked out bruise-purple as his favorite color.  He was going to be covered in that particular color tomorrow.

“You need ice?” Keith asked, scooting over closer.  

Glancing up at him, Shiro snorted.  “Now who’s fussing?”

Keith scowled and shook his head.  “Fine. Call me when you can breathe again.”  He curled his legs up to his chest, staring at Shiro’s bag with distant eyes.  As Shiro finally caught his breath again and pushed himself up, he stayed quiet.

Then, finally, he spoke.  “What are you doing this summer?”

Shiro’s brows rose as he rubbed over his stomach.  He settled in next to Keith, staring at the wall instead.  “Staying around here, mostly. Montgomery made noises that made me think she’s going to offer to let me TA during the summer sessions.”

“No.  Not that.  What are you really doing?”  Keith’s arms wrapped around his legs.

Oh.  That’s what this was about.

“Waiting,” Shiro said quietly.  He looked down at his feet as he dug his toes into the mat.  “I don’t really know. None of us do. I have hopes. This is about the Titan mission?”

Keith shrugged one shoulder, but then gave a single nod.  “When does that start, if you get it?”

“That’s a big if.”  Titan wasn’t the longest flight the Garrison regularly made, but it was up there.  It wasn’t an assignment usually offered to someone just out of school. But Shiro needed it to.  If the rumors about the timing of the Kerberos mission were true (that is, what Matt said he heard on the down-low from his father using their weird secret message system), then he only had time for one good mission between now and early applications.

If Shiro worked this out right, then he might be the record holder for longest distance flight.  He’d go to Pluto, where no one but objects had ever been before.

But it did mean being away for a long, long time.

Shiro hesitated, then put a hand on Keith’s back.  He jolted, but didn’t pull away. “It would start sometimes late next fall.  My official assignment from the Garrison is working on campus until we hear more about Titan.  And then I’ll have to go through training.”

Finally, Keith looked at him.  “So not even one more real semester.”

“Yeah.  But you don’t really need my tutoring anyway.  You’ll do fine.” Shiro rubbed a circle into Keith’s back, even as he ached to pull him in closer.  To hug him close and try to shield him from reality.

But Shiro couldn’t do that.  He couldn’t betray Keith like that.  He was the one person Keith seemed to really trust.  The one person he could go to when he had questions or troubles, the one person Keith could trust to be on his side (or to tell him when he was out of line).

If Shiro told Keith his affection went deeper, it would ruin everything.  He knew Keith didn’t see him like that. Hell, some days it felt like Keith tolerated him more than anyone else rather than liked him, though they became fewer as time went on.  He couldn’t poison Keith’s one solid relationship like that. It would hurt him deeply, cutting open a wound that Keith had only barely healed up.

Between the belladonna poison in Shiro’s throat, and the one he’d shoot into Keith’s heart, Shiro would swallow back as many words as need be.

“It’s not about that!”  Keith scrubbed over his face.  “It’s not that I’m worried my grades will fall or something.  Are you serious? I just… Whatever.”

Shiro’s heart squeezed.  Keith would be lonely. Keith would miss him.

“I’m sorry.”  This time, he gave in and wrapped one arm around Keith’s shoulder.  He used that to pull him in, so they were pressed flush on the sides.  “I’m sorry, Keith. I can still send you messages, you know that, right?  It’s not like I have anyone else I want to talk to out there. We can vid chat every few weeks, and it’ll only be for four months.  A little longer with quarantine, but we can talk online pretty easily in there. We’ll get through.”

Keith hesitated, then rested his head on Shiro’s shoulder.  “You’d want to talk to me in space?”

“Of course I would.”  Shiro squeezed him again.  “Someone’s got to give you the backstage pass, right?  You’ll get ahead of the game from everyone else.” He paused, then smiled.  “Besides. I’m going to miss you too. If I even get the job. It’s a huge if, still.  Even if I do, I’ll have a crew, but they won’t be you.”

A smaller hand crept up Shiro’s back, grabbing onto his tank-top to pull him in even further.  “Well, if you want to. Figuring out time zones is going to suck.”

“Yeah, it is.  But it’s worth it.”  Shiro turned his face and nearly ended up with a mouthful of dark hair.  He froze, fighting back against the sudden urge to press a kiss into Keith’s scalp.  “I won’t be there for you as much as I want to be. But I know you can manage without me.  And someday? We’ll go up together. Co-pilots. Me and you, maybe deeper into the Kuiper belt.”

“Oh.”  Keith’s voice brightened and some tension fell from his shoulders.   “That’d be okay.”

Shiro smiled, warm with both Keith against him and the rose-colored idea of the future.  “Yeah. But first you need to get good grades. And stay out of trouble.”

“Every time!”  But this time, Keith sounded like he was smiling.  He shoved at Shiro’s side, sending him teetering over.  “Fine, you made your damn point. I could probably use a hand with the stupid astro-meteorology questions.”

Shiro made a face into the mat.  “Eugh. That’s the worst.”

“Exactly.”

“Doesn’t get better, sorry.”  Shiro pushed himself to his feet, then offered Keith a hand to help him up.  “Let’s get washed up, then we can go over it during dinner, alright?”

Keith smiled and took the hand.  “Sounds good.”

Shiro’s chest ached with the drip of poison, and his body ached with purple blossoms.

But it was so worth it for Keith’s smile, and the future they could build together.  Even if it was platonic, Shiro wanted to work toward a world where they flew together into the stars.

He could get used to the taste of belladonna.


End file.
